


To Sweep You Off Your Feet

by Dancains



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Foot Fetish, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I suppose, M/M, Mayor and Chief of Staff, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, Oral Sex, Season/Series 03, very light D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancains/pseuds/Dancains
Summary: Ed looked so good like this, Oswald thought, so casual and intimate, as if he had sat next to Oswald and undressed for bed like this a thousand times instead of a few dozen."Sure, go ahead" he answered, almost without thinking. Anything to make Ed happy.Ed's expression was hard to read. He rolled up his sleeves and moved so he was sitting cross legged near the foot of the bed. He took one of Oswald's feet and placed it in his lap, as gently as something that could shatter.





	To Sweep You Off Your Feet

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this some time ago and finally finished it because I was motivated by the "mayor and chief of staff' prompt for Nygmobblepot Week even though this is only tangentially related to those roles. Also this could be read as a sequel to "A Good Name in Athens" but that doesn't need to be read first. Mostly, this concept stemmed from me first seeing Ed in s1 and thinking to myself...yeah this is the type of guy who'd be into feet probably....
> 
> As one last note, because I started this so long ago, even before the S4 episode where we see Sofia massage Oswald's ankle, I describe his leg injury differently than I do in other fics because I had thought it was concentrated more in his knee vs. his ankle (so I don't specifically mention scars etc. here).

Oswald sighed, letting himself sink further into the soft mattress and the pile of pillows bolstering his head and neck. If there was ever a time he deserved to relax in his life, it was now. 

 It had been one of his busiest and most tedious days so far as mayor, but he still found it immensely satisfying. In a way, the tedium was exciting. Routines and paperwork and dull meetings meant that the city was under control--or as much as a place like Gotham could be. He was still shocked by how high his approval rating remained.

 The only downside was that he hadn't seen Ed since breakfast early that morning. Their days were both fully occupied with their different duties, and he was only able to make a quick phone call to him during the car ride that had served as his lunch break. Despite this, the brief dose of warmth and kindness that emanated from Ed's voice had given him the boost of motivation to complete his tasks for the day with even more vigor.

 Even with all of his success, part of him worried that the newfound romantic thread between them might be strained by them working together, or by seeing too much of each other, but it certainly didn't seem to be the case.

 He had returned to the mansion before Ed, and reluctantly ate dinner alone (though, as usual, Olga's preparations were excellent), before retiring to the master suite and drawing himself a luxurious bubble bath. 

 As he submerged himself, the cloud of soft perfumed scent that wafted around him reminded him of his mother, and in turn, the conversation he had with Ed, when he had told Oswald how proud Gertrude would be of him. He smiled sadly, his fingers trailed the surface of the cloudy water, making shapes in the film of suds that coated it. He wished Ed had been in the bath with him.

 Eventually the water grew tepid, and Oswald drained the tub and got out. He gently toweled himself off before putting on his silk pajamas and sliding his feet into a pair of slippers to shuffle over to the bed. The soft yellow glow from the antique lamp sitting on the bedside table was the only illumination in the room, though far beyond the closed window curtains, the lights of the city were twinkling on the horizon.

 The slight pain that had throbbed in his knee all day had greatly reduced from the warm water, leaving him feeling even more loose and boneless. The late hour and his grueling schedule left him tired, but still he felt a pull of desire to wait up for Ed, if only to exchange a few words with him before falling asleep side by side. 

 He still had trouble wrapping his mind around his luck and good fortune, not simply in his career but in his love life. Their fledgling relationship was still at a stage of tentative exploration; long, languid kisses by the fireside had progressed into eager fumbling in the dark, and the novelty and wonder at waking up in the morning next to Ed, instead of by himself in an empty king-sized bed, had not yet worn off. 

 Trying to distract himself, he pulled a book from the bedside table-- _The Art of War,_ by Sun Tzu--something Ed had recommended. He certainly found it interesting, though he wasn't sure if he fully understood some passages. It was something else he could talk about with Ed over breakfast the next day, he decided. He hadn't had time lately to do something as leisurely as lay down and read, and it was exceedingly comfortable.

 He became so immersed in the text that he was surprised to hear the slight creak of the door as Ed let himself in.

 "I didn't think you'd still be up," Ed said, slipping out of his suit jacket and hanging it neatly in the wardrobe.

 Oswald glanced up at him over the top of a page. "I wasn't too tired, and I wanted to see you before I went to sleep." 

 Ed beamed at him, as if hearing those words from Oswald was the peak of his day. He sat on the edge of the bed, routinely removing his glasses and watch. He rolled his shoulders and glanced behind himself at Oswald, letting his gaze linger over the prone form. 

 "I think this is the busiest we've been since your election. How are you holding up?" asked Ed, his tone tender.

 "I'm doing alright. It feels good to be doing so much for the city--it's rewarding. In a way I never thought legitimate work could be. I definitely deserve a good, long lay-in tomorrow morning, though. We deserve it. Thank God it'll be the weekend, even if there's business to be attended to in the afternoon, of course."

 Ed hummed in agreement, untying his necktie. "How's your knee?"

 "Not too bad, considering the day I've had...a lot of standing around. My feet are a little sore, actually, so it's nice to finally lay down." He laughed softly, flexing his ankle and wiggling his toes as if to illustrate his point. 

 Ed's lips pursed as he followed the movement with his eyes. Oswald noticed the twitch of his jaw clenching. 

 As usual, thought Oswald, Ed was probably far more worried about Oswald's well-being than necessary. 

 "Could I--would you like me to rub your feet?" Ed asked suddenly.

 "Hm?" Oswald's brows knit together in confusion. "Ed you don't have to do that," he waved a hand dismissively, "you already do so much for me." 

_Did Ed still think of him as his boss instead of his boyfriend?_

 "It's alright. I'd like to...if that's okay with you."

 Oswald observed him in the faint lamplight, the glow framing the edges of his angular face. His hands hovered by his own throat, where he had been in the process of unbuttoning his dress shirt.

 Ed looked so good like this, Oswald thought, so casual and intimate, as if he had sat next to Oswald and undressed for bed like this a thousand times instead of a few dozen.

 "Sure, go ahead" he answered, almost without thinking. Anything to make Ed happy.

 Ed's expression was hard to read. He rolled up his sleeves and moved so he was sitting cross legged near the foot of the bed. He took one of Oswald's feet and placed it in his lap, as gently as something that could shatter.

 Oswald closed his eyes and felt Ed's thumbs slowly rubbing circles into the sole of his foot, gradually moving down to the heel. 

 He had to admit it felt nice. He let his mind wander. What would Fish say if she could see him now? 

 He knew this was different, of course, than all the times he had been forced to rub her feet. Ed wasn't touching him out of fear or obligation. He was touching Oswald because he genuinely wanted to, because he enjoyed making Oswald feel good. 

 A memory swam before his eyes, of the woman's voice coming from the static filled television, announcing his victory, and the shape of a heart Ed had traced in the air between them, as his own pounded heavily in his chest. 

 That was the same sort of feeling...authentic love and respect, the type that couldn't be bought or bargained for. 

 He groaned, so quietly that he might have imagined it, when Ed pressed more firmly into the arch of his foot. He shifted on the bed, toes curling. 

 Oswald decided that the only way this could be better was if Ed had some warm lotion or oil on his hands, but he didn't want to ask Ed to get up and find some. He certainly didn't want him to stop.

 He assumed that Ed was done with his right foot when he ceased kneading the sore heal, but instead he directed his attention to Oswald's toes, tugging at each of them with a light squeeze. What Oswald would have expected to feel uncomfortable felt surprisingly pleasant. 

 Ed moved to gently put pressure on the dip of his ankle for a few seconds before rubbing at Oswald's Achilles's tendon and pushing up his pant leg to run a delicate finger tip along his calf. 

 Oswald squeezed his eyes shut, feeling goosebumps on his skin. 

 "Mmh...Ed...that's _really_ nice," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He let his head loll back on the plush pillows.

 It was nearly silent for a few moments while Ed continued his ministrations--until Oswald suddenly yelped as he felt something unexpectedly hot and wet against his skin.

 He opened his eyes to see Ed's mouth around his big toe, brown doe eyes staring back at him like a deer in headlights. He hurriedly pulled his lips away with a wet plop, a thread of saliva still clinging to Oswald's foot.

 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ed spluttered, "I shouldn't have done that." He let go of Oswald's foot, letting it drop to the soft bed covers.

 When Oswald pushed himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Ed, he noticed an unmistakable tent in Ed's trousers.

  _Oh. Well that's interesting,_ Oswald thought. 

 Ed followed his gaze, and somehow managed to look increasingly mortified.

 Intrigued, Oswald experimentally pressed the same foot against Ed's erection, rubbing at it as well as he could from the odd angle.

 Ed let out a shaky, shuddering gasp of air, his whole body quivering. "Fuck," he breathed. 

 Oswald could count on one hand the occasions he had heard Ed swear like that before. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. 

 "I didn't tell you to stop," Oswald insisted, trying to push a commanding force into the words. He raised his other foot, flexing it daintily at the ankle just a few inches from Ed's open mouth. "But take that shirt off first, I want to see those arms of yours while you're doing this."

 The effect on Ed was instantaneous. He stripped off his dress shirt and accompanying undershirt in seconds, before taking hold of Oswald's lifted leg and worshipfully licking a slow, wet stripe from the heel to the ball of his foot.

 Oswald dropped himself back into a prone positioned and moaned loudly--partly because he was starting to enjoy the strange sensation, but mostly to put on a show for his partner.

 Ed began to rub the sole of his foot with both thumbs like he had done to the other one, soothing the aching soreness that radiated from the arch of it. At the same time he drew Oswald's big toe into his mouth, sucking it with zeal for a long moment before moving onto the next one. 

 He held the foot to his mouth with one hand while pushing up Oswald's silk pant leg with the other, trying to explore as much skin with his hands as possible. He was on his knees now, hips stuttering against the foot that Oswald still had solidly planted against his groin. Oswald wondered if Ed could come from this alone.

 Meanwhile, his own erection was now growing hard to ignore, the sight of Ed sucking on his toes reminding Oswald of something they had tried only the first time about a week ago, that had left Ed content and panting with the remains of Oswald's climax dripping from his chin. 

 The mental image alone was enough to make him unashamedly lower the waistband of his pajamas and wrap a hand around his cock. Ed nearly choked at the sight, his mouth now wrapped around the entire tip of Oswald's foot. He continued to lick and suck as Oswald jerked himself off, never breaking eye contact with Ed.

 "You can touch yourself, if you want," Oswald panted, "I want to see you." He wasn't sure if Ed had been waiting for his permission, or if he simply hadn't thought to. Ed unzipped his trousers with a shaking hand, eagerly drawing himself out of his briefs and working himself with his fist. 

  _Yes. There we go,_ Oswald thought. He would never tire of the enjoyment he gained from seeing his partner pleasure himself. 

 Letting Oswald's foot slip from his mouth, as if he was too preoccupied to do two things at once, Ed gestured to Oswald's busy hand. "Could I-?"

 "Please." Oswald groaned. He put his own hands behind his head, practically marinating in the luxury of it. Crouching low on his knees and elbows, Ed situated himself between Oswald's spread legs. To Oswald's surprise he used one hand to guide the tip of Oswald's length into his mouth. When Oswald moaned, even louder than before, it was entirely genuine. 

 He had already been teetering near the edge, and it didn't take much of Ed alternating between taking him as deeply as he could with the hot suction of his mouth and lapping, almost sloppily, up the side of his length, to take him completely apart. Ed balanced precariously on one elbow as he brought Oswald off, his other hand shoved between his legs, working roughly at same speed.

 He collapsed heavily onto Oswald with a grunt as soon as they had both come, and Oswald couldn't find it in himself to annoyed by the heavy weight of him. Ed buried his face in Oswald's neck, still breathing heavily, as Oswald ran his fingers lovingly across the soft, bare skin of his back. After a moment or two, Ed eased up on his elbows so he could look at Oswald, who took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to his lips, oddly fascinated by how he could taste his own bitterness in the corner's of Ed's mouth.

 Ed blinked at him. "I'm sorry if that was weird," he murmured, his voice small.

 "What? You know I certainly don't mind kissing you after you-"

 "No. No, I meant earlier."

 Oswald let out a low huff of laughter, "Ed you know I love learning more about you. And I suppose learning a bit more about myself in the process."

 Ed smiled gratefully, his cheeks still pink from exertion. 

 Oswald peered over his shoulder, where their legs were entangled and Ed's own bare feet hung off the end of the bed. "Additionally, I think it should be noted that you have very cute feet as we-- _oh my."_

 "What?"

 Ed craned his neck to see one of Oswald's lifted feet, a stark splattering of come across the top of it. Oswald remembered drawing his knees up towards his body as Ed had knelt in between them--he hadn't immediately recognized the warm, dripping sensation against his skin as Ed climaxed, far more concerned with riding out the sensation of his own.

 Though he might have imagined it, Oswald thought he could feel Ed's softening member twitch feebly against his leg.

 Possibly pushing his luck, he murmured in a deep voice, "Well someone's going to have to lick that clean for me."

 "Oswald," Ed groaned in feigned protest, the hungry swipe of his tongue along the line of his lips telling Oswald everything he needed to know.


End file.
